Update: Accommodation – Finalized

I logged on into WP, expecting to see new posts from my favorite bloggers.

Nothing.

I’d hate to become one of those people who would let others down, so here I am. Here’s to a few and rare readers who eagerly await my new post.

Ha.

I’m just rambling… I don’t expect anyone but me to see my post. After all, these words are by me and just for me.

Anyway…

I have made a little change to my itinerary. So instead of flying into Madrid to join the study abroad crew right away, I will be in the capital two days earlier. I just want to have a little time to get rid of jet lag and get used to the weather and everything else. I want to experience the culture shock by myself first, without anyone from the familiar old world to influence me. Besides, I can’t wait to visit the Bernabeu Stadium after the study abroad program; it would kill me. No, no. Real Madrid cannot wait.

I’m also applying for a few scholarships. There’s always this feeling that there are stronger competitors out there, that I don’t really have a chance… But if I don’t participate, it’s an automatic loss.

The official acceptance letter from the Spanish university will be arriving this week. I’m beyond excited.

Meanwhile, my 4 Spanish classes are giving me a hard time. Linguistics has so many information. Commercial Spanish is doable and Composition is fine, but Literature…. I don’t know what’s going on in that class for 99% of the time. Lost and confuse… Nonetheless, my teacher presented the most wonderful poem to the class that has easily become one of my most favorite of all time, simply because of these lines:

“It goes as such; the human heartssuffer from the truth and from deception;and without a day to enjoy themselves “

[From “La Razón Inútil” (“The Useless Reason”) by Alberto Lista]

Perhaps it’s not the most delightful poem, but something about it touched me very deeply. It gives me a glimpse of what literature is all about and gives a hint of what it can offer. Maybe I will come to like the class. To be honest, I’m not the most literature-y person, as you can probably tell. But what if the opposite is true? What if the reason that I don’t like “literature” is that its works that I have come into contact with so far have fail to impress me? What if that has frustrated me and made me feel like I have been let down? What if I’m just feeling that the ones I have read did not do “literature” a justice? Would that not make me the most literature-oriented person of all time?

Of course not. Maybe? I don’t know. I’m not sure… I’m just going to go to bed now.